


Are you hanging up a stocking on your wall?

by Mor-Mor (Not_The_Gods_Favorite)



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awesome Clint Barton, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes and the 21st Century, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Diary/Journal, False Identity, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Introspection, Memory Loss, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Clint Barton, Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Secret Identity, Shoplifting, Stakeout, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:47:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21857068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_The_Gods_Favorite/pseuds/Mor-Mor
Summary: It's Christmas and James doesn't quite get what's going on. Not when his mind is swirling with memories that feel like they belong to somebody else.And Clint didn't expect to pass Christmas on a tiny town in the middle of nowhere in France, all because Natasha needed a favor.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Clint Barton
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song "Merry xmas everybody" of Slade, although I'm jamming to idkhow's version. Merry holidays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's POV

He's hiding somewhere close to the French Alps when it starts snowing, and at first he doesn't give it much importance. He barely makes a note of getting warmer clothes and probably an extra blanket. Even if he had repaired the broken window a while ago, the apartment was still cold at night when the sun wasn't there to warm it up, so getting a blanket would be a good idea. It would be hard to get but he would manage.

James kept his head down when he walked around town trying to find a way to afford some food and some clothing, having to resort to shoplifting sometimes. It was easy, as if picking up a skill you gave up for a while. One day while he stuffed a package of spaghetti noodles up his arm, a flash of a memory crossed his mind followed closely by a overwhelming need to _protect._ He can't shake off the feeling as long as he roams the supermarket, picking some cheap stuff that he would actually pay for.

When he gets to the apartment he fills a pot with water and dumps some of the noodles on it as he puts it in the stove. He sits on one of the mismatched chairs at the table and picks up his notebook, taking a deep breath before he opens it and starts to write.

_'Today, 12th of December,_ _I_ _picked a package_ _of_ _noodles and as_ _I_ _slipped it up my_ _sleeve_ _I_ _got hit with a wave of familiarity... as if_ _I_ _had shoplifted food before, but a_ _long_ _time ago_ , _a distant and blurry memory._

_I also felt_ _the_ _overwhelming need to protect someone,_ _that_ _I_ _had_ _stole stuff because it was necessary, because it would protect that someone..._ _I_ _can't figure out who'_

James stops trying to place what else he had felt at the supermarket when his head started to pound and the water boiled; he could write more after he had eaten his pasta.

The days passed and one afternoon, when he was getting back from a perimeter check another wave of familiarity hit him, making his steps waver on the stairs. His hand gripped tightly at the railing, and he was thankful it was his right hand, or he would have left a dent on the metal bar.

When he finally got into the apartment he went straight for the notebook.

_'December 19th... apparently_ _I_ _had forgotten about something_ _called_ _Christmas. There's green garlands all_ _over_ the streets and on the stores... there's _also_ _a big fake pine on the_ _supermarket, with_ _lights_ _and a star in the top._

_I vaguely remember going to see a big tree, somewhere... but_ _it_ _was much bigger and had more lights, and it was a real pine, not a plastic one. I wasn't alone, but_ _I_ _can't remember who they were to me at that time. I can remember that it felt colder or at least colder than what_ _I_ _feel now'_

James doesn't know how to feel about this or the colored lights blinking right outside his window on the building in front of him or the kids playing around the snow making snowmen and throwing snowballs at each other. Its foreign but also familiar in the way many things on his life are. It was like experiencing things from his past through a fog so thick he couldn't make out any details, he could only hope that the fog cleared.

For a moment he considers getting a little tree for himself, to feel more connected with the rest of the world. To feel a part of this celebration and to have something resembling to normalcy. But he doesn't, he can't afford a plastic tree, and going to try to get a real pine, like he saw many people doing, would be too much of a hassle.

One day he's allowing himself to look up to the mountains, sighing and inhaling the fresh air, letting the sun caress his skin, barely warming up his cold nose. After a few seconds he feels like he had already done this... in the past. The man he was before had been in those mountains. This time, he didn't rush back to his apartment to write the fragment of a memory he just had recovered. James was sure he couldn't forget the smell of the mountains any time soon.

When he actually starts to walk over the apartment the bite of the cold becomes almost unbearable, paralyzing even. But it feels as if he was living it through a plastic wrap, so he guesses it's a memory too.

When he gets home, he writes down that memory too, sighing as he closes the notebook and steps away from the table, turning off the lamp perched on a corner and retreating to the mattress in the floor, sitting on the edge and staring at the snow falling outside, the lights on the building across the street still blinking through the window.

' _December 24th; its Christmas eve and_ _I_ _saved up enough_ _money_ _to buy some_ _pieces_ _of chicken_ _to_ _eat with rice. I remember_ _eating_ _this in this same season a long time ago._.. _turkey is (and was) too expensive, and_ _chicken_ _was a_ _cheaper_ _option._

_I also bought myself another notebook as a Christmas gift, this one is on its last pages and_ _I_ _still have a lifetime to remember'_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clint's POV.

Clint Barton is not a fan of snow. He likes the crisp freshness of the air, he can appreciate beautiful landscapes. But the actual bite of the cold reminds him of times were he didn't had much to get by and he would curl up as much as he could to preserve body heat. He hates how easily trackable things are on snow, because as much as it makes his job easier, he's also leaving prints for someone to find and follow.

So he's not exactly pleased when he ended up in a little town near the French Alps to do some stakeout mission. He's glad that at least he has a decent place to stay in, but the fact that's snowing and it's hard to be absolutely silent as you walk on snow has him a little more paranoid that on any other mission.

Well, is not every day that you get to follow the mythical _Winter Soldier._ He knew that Steve had organized a little search party too, but Nat was feeding them slightly delayed pieces of intel.

_'I need you to make sure he's safe for Steve, he got really hurt after DC. I don't want that again. When you give me clearance I'll give Steve the precise intel, for now, I'm trusting you'_

To that message had been attached several HYDRA files, a bank account with enough to get him to get by wherever he went, a couple brand new identities and some instructions before she went back to radio silence.

They had talked a total of 2 times since what happened on DC. The first time had been just after Clint had managed to get somewhere safe enough to contact her and get something resembling an explanation for what had happened.

And then, some weeks after, he had gotten this instructions. He had hopped around a several cities, for a couple months not managing to see the guy more than a handful of times as he hardly left the places he stayed at. _'Elusive, he knows how_ _to_ _move without being detected, he usually looks normal, or blank face, or shaken up, like we look after bad missions'_ that was all he could tell to Nat so far.

Now they were on a small town somewhere close to the Alps. He had a scribbled notebook with all the remarkable things that Barnes had done since Clint had started to tail him. Up on that list were the perimeter checks and the shoplifting.

Barnes lived like a pretty normal guy even if the building he was staying at was really run down, peeling paint and all. But what else could you expect of a guy on the run. Clint's apartment wasn't that much nice either. At least he had a heater so he didn't got too cold at night.

With the years, Clint had gotten used to some rythm on his missions, and when stuff went too quiet he got bored. They had been at least two weeks on the French Alps and Christmas was already creeping up around the corner.

It wasn't like it was a important time of the year for Clint. He just used it as a measure of how long he had been following Barnes. Usually he was back at the farm in Iowa this late on the year. Unless he was on a mission, but Fury usually spared him on holidays.

Barnes had left for the shop a could minutes ago and he was dozing off on the window. The Soldier, or Bucky or whoever he was at this point, usually took 20 minutes to go to the store, last time Clint checked it had been 22, and that was just a few minutes ago.

When he was getting ready to jump down the stairs and go to look for him he saw him round the corner and trudge over the door of his building. The blond sighed and leaned back against the wall next to his window, watching him dissapear inside.

It was a little past midnight, Christmas eve was over and he had decided to take a walk to clear his head. He was making small trails on the snow, because he was pretty sure that Barnes didn't know he was there. He had actually followed him just once and then he had settled on his small apartment, going to buy whatever food he needed whenever Barnes was home to not raise suspicion.

So when he bumped onto someone and he cursed in english, he made his best effort to drop his posture to just startled, slightly defensive, but regular civilian defensive stand. His posture was non threatening.

"I'm sorry I-" he looks up and he freezes when Barnes is in front of him looking like a deer in headlights too. Clint paused calculating his next words " _parlez vous anglais?"_ He tries out, forcing his decent French to be even worse.

The brunet nods and looks down for a split second "yes, I do" and there's just a hint of French accent in there, so the guy is playing the local card.

Clint sighs, dropping his shoulders a little "sorry I ran into you, I'm here on my holidays a bit of a escape of work and all, got myself set up on a nice Airbnb" he flashes a smile, hoping his _'merican_ _tourist_ is decent enough to fool Barnes.

Apparently it is because Barnes nods, and looks at the barely outlined mountain "got a chance to go look at that up close?" He asks, and he's shifting a bit nervously.

Clint shakes his head "I'm here until past new year, I've been catching up on missed hours of sleep for now" he licks his lips absently, putting on a small smile "I promise to go soon tho, wouldn't like to get caught on a blizzard or something"

Barnes nods and he slowly inches away. Clint takes that as his cue to leave.

"Well, I'll walk around a bit more... uh I hope I run into you again!" He chuckles, hoping it looks like pleasantries instead of ominous "See ya" he waves at Barnes and continues to wall down the road.

He can hear the crunch of the snow as Barnes walks away from him. In 10 minutes he's sitting at one of the squares of the town, typing a text with an update for Natasha. And he can guess he would have to move to another country soon.

Barnes's position was compromised, even if it was for some alleged tourist. If the guy was going through all this trouble to stay hidden, Clint was sure that the Soldier would switch his hiding spot. He doesn't mention that to Natasha, he keeps it to himself.

 _'seems_ _normal_ _, just a little jumpy, adapts quicky, just like any spy would do'_ is what he manages to text. He just hopes this little encounter doesn't end up with him dead.


End file.
